


Advent Calendar 2020 - Munich Marauders' Fanfiction

by Lemikita



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 8,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29632923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemikita/pseuds/Lemikita
Summary: This is a fanfiction Advent Calendar that came to be because of the Harry Potter and The Sacred Text reading group "Munich Marauders". It is a collection of fluffy little stories taking a look at what happens around the Christmas time in the Harry Potter universe.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 1





	1. Molly enjoying the Holidays

Molly Weasley enjoyed the holiday season. Especially now that she didn't have a full house to take care of in addition to the holiday preparations she enjoyed making the house sparkle with wintery spirit. The garden didn't need much attention at this time of year and the usual household chores seemed somehow less important when the whole house smelled of cinnamon and apple cider. In Molly's opinion, the adoption of the Muggle holidays in order to blend in with their neighbors had been one of the better decisions made by the Wizengamot back in the early 18th century.  
This year she wanted to make the time of Advent even more special since they were going to spend the holidays with Charlie in Romania. It was also going to be Ginny's last year at home for Christmas, a thought that sometimes brought a melancholy sigh with it.  
Mrs. Weasley was just adjusting some tinsel above the fireplace when her daughter came crashing through the door, her cheeks flushed with the cold and her hair frozen with ice crystals where it wasn't covered by her red bobble hat. She was clutching a rather worn looking barn owl to her chest.  
“Mum, look! Ron wrote!”, she exclaimed excitedly. She handed the owl to Molly, who gently pried the half frozen piece of parchment from the bird. The message was given back to Ginny and the school owl was placed by the fire to thaw out. Molly even fetched her some chicken feed soaked in fire whiskey, which turned out to work even better than the fire to warm the bird up.  
Ginny was reading through Ron's message eagerly. Every message her brother sent was read immediately and very thoroughly in case there was any mention of Harry Potter in it. Molly watched her daughter barely able to stand still while reading it, the now melting snow on her hat slowly dripping down on the carpet. With a start, Ginny looked up.  
“Mum! Harry Potter won't get any presents! That is awful! Mum, we have to do something about that!” Ginny was now clutching desperately on her mother's arm, an imploring look on her face.  
Molly took Ron's letter from her to read it herself. Surely enough, Ron mentioned that he didn't think that Harry would be getting any Christmas presents. Thinking back to the small, lost-looking boy she'd met at King's Cross, her heart gave a painful squeeze.  
“You're right, Ginny, that won't do at all. Tell you what, I still have some yarn for a sweater and we'll make some fudge together to send to the boys and Harry.”  
Ginny's eyes lit up and she quickly divested herself from her coat and hat so that she could run into the kitchen to get started.  
Molly smiled to herself. She really did like the holiday season.


	2. No, Hagrid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hagrid is a bit oblivious

„No, Hagrid, I just don't think it's a good idea.“ McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.  
„Well, I thought, y'know, send 'em off in the holiday spirit and sorts. Don't they look festive?“ Hagrid's enthusiasm wasn't easily squashed. “Those kids what aren't staying won't see all o' them festive decoration, so I thought at least the carriages takin' 'em to the station should look Christmassy.”  
The professor sighed even more deeply. “I don't have a problem with the carriages looking festive. It's the other thing.”   
“Oh, they don't mind. They's properly tamed, you see. Don't mind a' all if they are all done up like this!”  
McGonagall took a deep breath. With Hagrid, you often needed a special sort of patience. How she was going to get it into his head that decorated Thestrals weren't exactly fitting for the holidays she didn't know.   
Behind them a small voice piped up. “I like them. I think they enjoy the garlands,” said Luna, stroking one of the Thestrals wearing green and red wreaths. “Makes them look really joyful.”


	3. Christmas for Teachers

For Minerva McGonagall it was a quiet evening in front of the fireplace, dressed in her tartan dressing gown with a hot toddy in her hands, the snow outside the window slowly falling on a quiet Hogwarts as she finally had time to read a good romance novel.

For Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick it was an evening spent in humorous and increasingly lurid conversation, aided by a few butterbeers and dancing Christmas biscuits as well as a chocolate frog or two.

For Severus Snape it was a walk along the edge of the forest, contemplating and wondering, enjoying the absence of the noisy crowds.

For Albus Dumbledore it was a hot chocolate (which might or might not have some fire whiskey in it, courtesy of Elphias Doge), a newly hatched Fawkes in a little warm bundle in his lap and a few of his favourite memories in the pensieve next to him.


	4. Parvati and Padma

Parvati and Padma usually didn't stay at Hogwarts over the holidays, but this year their parents were visiting relatives in India, and they had both decided they would rather stay than have every aunt and uncle ask them about their accomplishments at school and comment on their looks. Lavender Brown wasn't staying this year, so the sisters had made plans to spend the day together.

They started off by snitching some sandwiches from the breakfast table and taking a stroll around the lake, giggling about funny stories from their respective houses and other gossip they usually didn't have a chance to share. The sun made the wintery landscape a sparkling background for their time together and they didn't realize how cold they'd gotten until they were once again sitting by a fireplace. They'd chosen Professor Flitwick's classroom to warm up, as they knew he wouldn't mind them for hanging out together, especially not around Christmas time.

After a hot lunch they met a few of the other remaining students on their way outside and decided to join them for a snowball fight, though they soon gave up as they realized how unfair the Weasley twins were fighting. Some of the other students realized this as well and they all gathered in the Great Hall to play a couple rounds of exploding Snap before dinnertime.

After dinner, once again full to the brim with delicious pies, delectable roasts and luscious puddings, they went their separate ways again, both of them slowly making the ascend to their respective towers. Next year, they said, they'd stay at Hogwarts again.


	5. Abies Cantus

„It's so small, Pomona.“ Coming from Professor Flitwick, this really said something. The plant was only about a foot high.

„Oh, do be fair, I only planted the seed this spring! Oh, to think that I finally got my hand on an Abies cantus after all these years!“ Professor Sprout seemed positively giddy with excitement. Her colleague wasn't so sure though.

“So what do you need me to do, exactly?”

“You know, Filius, I'm not a very good singer. And I thought, with your experience of the frog choir, could you maybe teach it a few carols? We still have a few weeks till Christmas, maybe until then it can hold a tune!”

They both looked down at the fir tree between them. As if it felt their eyes on it, it gave a rustle and a few timid notes emerged from its branches.

“Well, it sounds nice enough, I'll give it a try, Pomona.”

That's how a potted fir tree got a special place at the Christmas feast that year at Hogwarts, right at the center of the teacher's table. It sang beautifully, even though a few people said that they thought it was kind of sappy.


	6. Hogsmeade

As it was wont to do, the sun set early in mid-December, allowing the various Christmas lights and holiday garlands adorning almost every house in Hogsmead to shine even more brightly.

A few temporary stalls had appeared at the end of November, selling everything from Christmas ornaments over mulled hot chocolate to hand carved wooden toys and Goblin made jewelry. The smell of freshly baked gingerbread hung in the air and a gentle snow began to fall as a couple emerged from the Three Broomsticks, some warm light and jolly singing spilling out onto the streets with them.

They walked along the main street, linking arms with each other, the smaller, somewhat plump figure leaning their head on the taller one's shoulder.

“Arthur Weasley, this was one of the best ideas you've ever had, apart from marrying me. I don't remember the last time I had so much fun.”

Molly's husband smiled. “Well that just goes to show that you work too much, my dear.” He sighed. “I worry about you, Molly.”

Mrs. Weasley hid her face by snuggling even closer to her husband. “You might be right. But the children enjoy it so much. And it's Ron's last Christmas at home.”

Mr. Weasley stopped and turned to his wife. “Tell you what, how about next Christmas we go visit Charlie? He can never come because of the breeding season and I think it would do us both some good.”

Molly beamed up at him. She had missed spending the holidays with her second oldest son.

“Oh Arthur, I think I was wrong before. That might have been the best idea you've ever had. Apart from marrying me, of course.” And she leaned up to give him a very holiday spirited kiss.


	7. Dudley gets a Christmas Card

„Ah, the Perkins have sent a Christmas card – oh it seems as though his mother had to move into a nursing home. And look, the Nguyens are pregnant again, how nice. Who's this one from? Oh, Dudley, I think that one's from your cousin!”

Dudley Dursley had listened only with half an ear as his wife had listed all the new information she'd gleaned from this years Christmas cards but perked up when he heard that last bit.

His wife handed the card to him and he opened it with some hesitation. Inside was a billet with a moving picture on the front that showed his cousin Harry with his pregnant wife Ginny, both of them happily waving as a toddler sitting on Harry's shoulders wreaked havoc on his father's hair.

“Looks like they're expecting again as well,” he commented.

He looked over to his own wife who was getting their two year old son ready for lunch, placing a bowl of pasta in front of him. She stepped away again to fetch a bib, leaving the food just slightly out of reach of her son. The toddler was getting impatient and started to protest, when the bowl and a nearby placed spoon started to levitate and hover towards the infant. His son giggled with delight and the spoon did a few additional somersaults.

Dudley sighed. Seeing as these occurrences only seemed to increase in frequency, he should probably talk with his cousin. And maybe look into magical daycare.


	8. Percy Weasley and the Christmas Party

„The audacity!“ Percy huffed under his breath. He was heading towards the teachers' lounge with confident steps. “A Christmas party of this proportion! And even allowing other houses into our common room! Can't believe even Penelope-” He'd arrived and stopped abruptly, knocking purposefully on the dark oak door.

It opened just a short moment later to the face of Professor Vector who was wearing a violently purple and comically small top hat instead of his usual attire.

“Oh, it's you.” Over his shoulder he shouted “It's not Rosmerta, calm down, everyone. Minerva, I think you better take this one.”

Professor McGonagall swapped places with her colleague. She still had her usual hat on, though it was slightly askew and her cheeks seemed flushed.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley? What brings you to me at this hour?”

“Well, Professor, you see I was coming back to the Gryffindor common room after studying at the library and the other students are having a very rambunctious party!”

“Is anybody hurt?”

“No, Prof-”

“Are they destroying school property?”

“Well, no, they actually took care to move the furniture out of-”

“Is any student doing anything illegal?”

“They got some butterbeer from the kitch-”

“Well, Mr. Weasley, then I think, for just this once, you'll just have to deal with a little fun. Good night, Mr. Weasley.” And she closed the door on an astonished looking Percy.

“Are you going to stand there all night, love?” A smoky voice interrupted his dumbfoundedness. “Because you're in my way.”

He moved aside and watched in amazement as Madame Rosmerta, followed by a few floating crates of butterbeer and firewhiskey walked into the teachers' lounge, happy cheers welcoming her.


	9. Luna's Plum Cake

Arthur Weasley was reading one of the Muggle magazines he'd confiscated earlier that week when a knock on the back door made him look up. He got out of his cosy arm chair and opened the door to a warm and fuzzy looking Luna Lovegood.

“Oh, Luna, what a nice surprise. Would you like to come in? Molly and the children are out right now, though.”

“That's no problem. I'm just going round the houses and bringing everyone plum cake. My dad and I made some and if you leave too many around, that's sure to bring Finnagles looking, and nobody wants that. I also included some cork necklaces, to keep the Nargles away,” she said with a pointed look at the mistletoe hanging by the door, holding up a small package that smelled wonderfully of warm spices.

“Thank you, Luna! Are you sure you don't want a cup of tea? I'm sure the others will be coming home fairly soon.”

“That's alright, thank you. I still need to go around to the Diggory's and the Mallary's. And I can't leave my dad alone for too long. He worries, you see.” She smiled warmly at him and turned around to continue on her way around the neighbouring magical households.

He watched her walk through the freshly fallen snow. Shortly after, he returned to the warmth of the living room, having cut himself a small slice of plum cake and wearing a cork necklace. You never knew with those nasty Nargles.


	10. Fred and George love Christmas

Fred and George loved mischief. They loved the slightly shocked look on their friends faces when a prank happened upon them. They loved the giggles and laughter of those witnessing their misdeeds. They loved the accomplished feeling when a long thought out plan worked flawlessly.

Fred and George loved their family and friends. They loved spending time with their siblings (yes, even Percy, although maybe quality over quantity here). They loved playing games with their friends, especially when they won, which was often the case. They loved coming home to their parents and being surrounded by their warm love.

Fred and George loved Christmas. They loved the food, the family time and the sweaters.

So really, if you thought about it, it shouldn't have been a surprise that their long-planned prank this Christmas didn't end up in destruction or mayhem or even a little bit of mischief but rather in every friend and family member getting exactly what they'd wanted for Christmas. Fred and George did after all love everything about this.


	11. Snape's Present

The winter holidays were always a welcome break from the ongoing school year, even though Severus Snape wasn't one to embrace the Christmas spirit fully. He still enjoyed the quiet that usually came with the absence of nearly all the students and it wasn't different this year. The last lessons before the break were always especially annoying, as even those students who were usually at least somewhat useful in a classroom setting seemed to have left any brains they called their own in their already packed trunks.

Almost with a sigh of relief he ended the year's last lesson and was glad to see the back of the first years. He turned to clear away his own cauldron and the writing on the black board when he heard a small voice.

“Excuse me, Professor?”

Snape turned around to find that one of the students had lingered. She was a Slytherin, small in stature, with strawberry blond hair and a determined look on her face.

“My uncle sent these to me and asked me to give them to you. Said you could probably use them. He got back from a trip to Norway not too long ago and he said the Furunella mushrooms up there just can't compare to what you can find in the UK.” She handed him a small package with dried mushrooms that seemed to give off a pulsating orange glow.

“That's nice of your uncle. These... seem adequate, thank you.” He took the offered fungi and she beamed at him.

“See you next year, merry Christmas!” Without a last glance back she bounded out of the classroom, leaving the potions professor to contemplate the fact that this was probably the closest he'd come to receiving a Christmas present in a long while.


	12. Two Puppies under the Christmas Tree

It was about a week before Christmas when Remus Lupin opened his front door to see Sirius Black on his doorstep.

“Hey, mate, haven't seen you in ages!” Sirius greeted a somewhat startled Lupin and proceeded to hug him tightly.

“Sirius! I didn't know you were coming! Come in, come in. And what do you mean? We saw each other not two months ago, you're acting like it's been a lifetime.”

“It's felt like a lifetime with me spending those weeks at the Potter's, ugh.” He'd let his rucksack fall to the floor which made a tinkling sound and sauntered through to the living room, making himself comfortable in one of the chairs by the fireplace. “Well, some of it anyways. I can only stand so much lovey-dovey...”

Lupin took a seat opposite of him. “Well, newly engaged couples will be that way.” He smiled genuinely at his friend. “So what brings you to this corner of the country?”

“I thought maybe I could spend the holidays with you. Seeing as you probably don't have any plans?”, he suggested with a hopeful look.

Remus grimaced. “Well, I was going to go into the countryside. Christmas is on a full moon this year, you know.” He gestured towards a small knapsack, apparently filled with provisions. “You're happy to join me.” Lupin squinted suspiciously as he saw a mischievous grin spread across Sirius' face. “What?”

“Well, or we could just stay here!” He sprang up and quickly retrieved his backpack from where he'd let it fall.

“Sirius, what are you saying?” Remus seemed genuinely confused and slightly concerned for his friends mental health. “We're in the middle of London, we can't stay here.”

“We can if you take this!” And with that he thrust a small bottle that had a now slightly squashed looking bow around it into Remus' hands. “Happy early Christmas!”

Lupin slowly uncorked the bottle and gave it a sniff only to recoil in disgust. “What is this?”

“It's called Wolfsbane potion. It's kinda hard to make and it tastes appalling, but if you take one dose every day the week before a full moon, you'll keep your head once you turn. You'll be a well behaved pup just like me!”

Remus' eyes grew large. “I've heard of this. Never was very good at potions though.” They shared a chuckle. “And I heard the ingredients are somewhat expensive...”

“Don't worry about that. Just worry about getting that down,” he said with a laugh. His friend tried laughing along with him but it turned into tears not far along the way. Trying to hide his face, he turned to put the bottle on a nearby shelf. As soon as he'd put it down he found himself enveloped in a fierce hug which he gladly returned.

“Thank you,” he mumbled into his friends shoulder.

“Anytime,” Sirius answered quietly.

That's how a week later, a large black dog and an even larger grey wolf lay intertwined in front of the fire, completely content and for once not worrying about a thing.


	13. Christmas under Black Lake

The merpeople of Black Lake didn't celebrate Christmas. Which didn't mean that the quieter winter months weren't enjoyed by them. Especially for the younger ones it was always exciting when the lake first froze over. They made a game out of who could carve the prettiest figures into the ice from under it and revelled in the shapes glittering and glistening when they were hit by the morning sun.

The giant squid was noticeably slower in the colder temperatures, making him an easier partner for playing catch with. He didn't mind the merchildren teasing him that much, but would leave for a different part of the lake when it got to be too much for his liking. Even a giant squid had his limits.

The older merpeople liked decorating their houses and statues according to the seasons' offerings. Once Hagrid had caught wind of that, he made sure to deposit a crate of the previous year's Christmas decorations by the shore before the lake had an impenetrable sheet of ice on it. They appreciated the offering, taking the baubles and garlands to the bottom of the lake, handing out tinsel and glittering ornaments to the whole village. The merpeople didn't celebrate Christmas, but looking at their dwelling it would have been hard to tell.


	14. Hagrid gets the Christmas Trees

Hagrid let go of the enormous fir tree a few dozen yards from the forest's edge, leaving an indent in a snow bank.

“Right, only one more to go.” He looked towards the horizon, where the sun was creeping dangerously low. “Better make it a quick one. Come, Fang.”

He trudged once again into the Forbidden Forrest, an axe over one shoulder, Fang bounding along the path before him as long as there was enough light coming through the thick branches. The farther they went, the darker it got and the giant boarhound kept closer to his master's legs.

Many eyes were watching their progress from beyond the path, some friendly, some less so. Hagrid wasn't oblivious to this, but he commanded a certain respect among the creatures that lived in the forest.

He reached the spot where he'd marked a particularly elegant fir tree, fit to be a Christmas tree in the great hall along with the other eleven he'd already chopped down. He started to swing his axe when he noticed a movement in the lower branches. The gamekeeper almost toppled over as he directed his axe to hit the frozen ground instead of the tree.

When he had gained his balance again he took a closer look at what he'd spotted.

“Well, what do you know, a bowtruckle.” He bowed down to inspect the creature more closely. It brandished its arms as if they were weapons, warning anybody to stay away from their tree, or else.

“Sorry, fella, didn't see you there before. Don't worry, I won't be hurting your tree. I'll just go and look for a different one.” He straightened up and turned to continue his path deeper into the forrest, noticing that it had gotten significantly darker.

He walked for a couple of minutes when his path was suddenly blocked by a tall, four legged form.

“It is not wise to come this deep into the forest at this hour,” the figure said, slowly coming closer.

“Is that you, Firenze?” Hagrid laughed with recognition when they were close enough. “Haven't seen you in a while.”

“The constellations are clouded.” Hagrid looked up at the clear sky that was slowly revealing stars in the twilight of the setting sun. “The future is in flux.”

“Sure, sure.” Hagrid scratched his head. He never knew what to say to the Centaurs.

“Follow me, I will show you something.” Without waiting for Hagrid to agree, Firenze trotted away.

Hagrid went along with him, knowing it was a seldom occasion that a Centaur sought out a wizard.

Firenze stopped only a short while later in a small clearing.

“Here, Hagrid, this tree will be much better suited,” he said, gesturing to an even bigger and more beautiful fir tree at the edge of the clearing. “It has contracted tinkling blight, which will prove to be fatal in the matter of a few months.” The centaur brushed against the lower branches and a sound not unlike a few dozen small bells escaped the foliage.

“That's brilliant, Firenze, you're a life saviour!” Hagrid gave the Centaur a heavy handed pat on the back.

“No need to thank me. It will be much easier to watch the heavens from this spot now.”

* * *

The students were delighted with the Christmas trees that year, especially with the one quietly jingling whenever someone brushed it. It seemed even more magical than the others.


	15. Elf on the Shelf

“Ah, Charity, good thing that I catch you.” The muggle studies professor was walking through one of the corridors along the first floor when she was thus addressed by Madam Pince.

“Irma, what can I do for you?” she asked the librarian.

“I have a rather peculiar problem and I hoped you might be able to help me. Would you join me in the library?”

They made their way to the library where they found a small group of first year girls laughing about something, though they stopped as soon as they saw Madam Pince.

Charity Burbage quickly identified the source of the amusement. On one of the higher shelves she saw a house elf dressed all in red, complete with a Santa hat.

“He just won't come down. Says he has to stay on a shelf from now until Christmas and watch the children. I gathered that he got the idea from a Muggle book, so I thought you might be able to help.” Madam Pince seemed flustered.

Her colleague approached the house elf.

“Hello! What's your name?”

“Dobby, madam,” the elf replied.

“May I ask what you are doing up there, Dobby?”

“Well, Dobby is an elf on a shelf and so he has to watch the children.”

“And where did you get that idea from?”

“Dobby has read about all sorts of things when he is cleaning the library and he read one book about the elf on the shelf and Dobby was very sad because there wasn't an elf on any shelf in all of Hogwarts, so Dobby thought he can be that elf. So Dobby has to sits here and watch the children.”

“And what do you do when you've watched the children?”, the teacher asked.

This seemed to confound Dobby.

“Dobby hasn't read that far, madam.”

“Ah, I see that there may have been a misconception. You see, Dobby, you read a muggle book about a muggle tradition. They put figures of elves on a shelf and tell their children that they are being watched by those elf figures. There aren't any real elves in the muggle world, so they have to make to with dolls.”

“So they isn't real elves on their shelves?” The house elf's large ear drooped. “That is horrible!”

“Well, the muggles make do. The important part is that you don't have to stay on a shelf until Christmas. Madam Pince would also appreciate it if you wouldn't distract the students any longer.”

The house elf hopped down light-footedly.

“Thank you for telling me that, madam,” he told Professor Burbage. “May I ask you something?”

“You may.”

“Can I still wear the hat?”


	16. Hermione's Decision

Ginny was putting Christmas ornaments on their tree with her two year old son when she heard the familiar whoosh of the floo network announcing the arrival of Ron and Hermione. They'd be spending a few days together before the big Christmas family gathering.

Even before the couple had stepped out of the fireplace Ginny could hear their bickering which was only interrupted when James ran up to them to greet them.

“Unco Ron! Auntie Hermonny!” He jumped up and down with glee and was quickly picked up by Ron.

“My, you've gotten so big! What are you doing with your Mum? Are you decorating the tree?”

James gestured over to Ginny who was getting up from the ground with a groan. Her pregnant belly was getting to an inconvenient size.

It seemed small in comparison to Hermione's though, who was getting close to the end of her first pregnancy.

“He's not the only one getting big, I see.” Ginny laughed, greeting her sister in law in an awkward attempt at a hug.

“Yes, this is getting uncomfortable. You made it seem so easy with James. And Fleur never looked as big as this.”

Ron kissed the side of her head. “You're getting more beautiful every day.”

Hermione blushed and smacked him lightly on the arm.

“Where's Harry?”, she asked, which earned her a sigh from Ginny.

“Still at work. He should be home soon though.”

Hermione gave Ron a pointed look. “See? I'm not the only one working long hours.”

“Harry's not pregnant though.”

“Well, Ginny is!”

“You're not helping yourself very much in this argument, love.”

Hermione turned away with a huff. They'd had this exact discussion too many times already.

“Ginny, can I use your study? I need to write a few memos for my assistant. I didn't have time to finish them before we came.”

“Sure. You know where it is. Lamea is out hunting, but she's usually back around dinner time if you want to send something.”

“Thanks, I'll send it by floo, though.”

She left towards the study, trying hard to walk as if she wasn't pregnant at all.

Ron sighed.

“Sorry about that... I just can't make her understand that I just worry about her and the baby. She's working herself up and I have to stand by and watch.” He scratched the back of his neck in a helpless gesture.

“It's Hermione we're talking about. The witch who took all the classes in third year. Does this really surprise you?”

An even heavier sigh escaped him.

“Not really, no. I wish I could just make her see...”

“Help me with the rest of the decorations. She'll come to her senses, trust me.”

Hermione finished up with her work and slowly made her way back to the living room. Ron just didn't understand how important her work was. There was nobody else as good at it as she was and the work just wouldn't get done if she didn't do it. Well, at least not as efficiently. She knew that she would have to take a break when their child was born, so it was even more important that she got as much work done beforehand as was humanly possible.

She leaned against the wall just around the corner from the living room and put her hands on her abdomen. The little thing inside her was always the most relaxed when she was working.

Achingly, she straightened up again and made her way to the living room. She stopped in the door frame to watch Ron with James. They were continuing to decorate the tree, James handing his uncle ornaments and pointing him to where he wanted them. Ron teased him now and again by hanging them in the wrong place and misinterpreting the toddler's protest to mean a completely wrong direction. Ron was so good with children, with paying complete attention to them, meeting them where they were. Hermione smiled to herself. Somehow this little scene had made her realize something that Ron had been trying to make her understand for a long time.

She approached them slowly and hugged Ron from the side, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Do you remember our third year?”

“Woke up to a knife-wielding alleged serial killer, dementors were all over the school, my pet rat turned out to be a man...” Ron gave a shudder. “How could I forget?”

“I was actually thinking more about the time turner I had that year. I gave it back at the end of it, because I was spreading myself too thin.” Hermione looked up at her husband. “I think I've been spreading myself too thin again. I wasn't really here with you or even with this little one.” She put a hand on her abdomen gently. “I'll send an owl when Lamea gets back. My assistant should be able to handle the work, and my maternity cover started last week. I'll go back to the office after the holidays for a day or two and see how they get on.”

Ron put his arms around her and embraced her tightly.

“I'm really proud of you for doing that,” he whispered into her hair, knowing how hard it was for his wife to let go of responsibility. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The air smelled of cloves and cinnamon, she could hear Ginny tinkering in the kitchen and James whine because nobody was paying attention to him. Hermione was completely sure she'd made the right choice.


	17. Sirius at the Potter's

James Potter was lounging on the couch, perusing a Quidditch magazine when he heard the doorbell. Thinking it was probably one of his mother's friends bringing by yet another plum cake, he did not move a muscle until he heard his name called.

“James, could you come her?”

With a typical teenage sigh he got up, letting the whole world know what an inconvenience this was.

“Yes, mum, what is it?”

But his mother needn't answer as he saw his best friend Sirius stand in the doorway, framed by the Christmas lights his parents had put up.

“Sirius, what are you doing here?” He noticed that his class mate had bloodshot eyes and seemed exhausted.

“Oh, just dropping by for a visit. Making sure you haven't opened my present yet,” he joked lightly.

James looked his friend over even more closely and noticed a fading bruise on Sirius' left cheek. It also seemed that he hadn't changed his clothes in a few days.

“Come in. That way you can check yourself.” He led the way to his room, aware that his mother had a close eye and ear on their conversation by the entrance.

When he'd closed the door behind them they both sat down on the bed, Sirius leaning forward and clutching his head in his hands.

“What's really going on, mate?” James nudged him gently with his shoulder.

“I think this time I've really done it.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I don't think there's any going back this time.”

“You've said that about a dozen times.”

“This time is different. I think mum burned me from the family tree.”

“Aw, man, that's rough.”

Sirius made an agreeing noise and they both sat in silence for a while.

“So you really haven't opened my present yet? After all my hints?”

“No! I would never! I'm not as nosy as Pettigrew.” Sirius joined in his laughter and James heart gave a happy squeeze seeing his friend relax a bit. “Now, there's still a few days till Christmas, if you don't believe me, you'll just have to stay and make sure I don't open it before then.”

Sirius' face lit up. “You really mean it?”

“Sure, my parents love you. They won't mind.” He paused and got serious. “I bet they wouldn't mind if you stayed even longer.”

Instead of answering, Sirius hugged his friend tightly.


	18. At St. Mungo's

It tended to be very busy at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries around Christmas time. In the lead up to the holidays, even experienced witches and wizards sometimes failed charms spectacularly, resulting in disfigurement, displacement or distortion. Just as often, younger children met a misfortune when they tried to figure out what their presents this year were only to come face to face with protecting amulets or illusion charms. And the pent up frustration of too much work and too little time led to more than one domestic argument that resulted in at least one member being admitted to the hospital. As times go, December was a busy one at the hospital.

Things were less hectic on the fourth floor, where the long-term patients resided.

“Gilderoy, I've got a few presents here for you!” One of the resident healers was going around the Janus Thickey ward, distributing Christmas presents after testing them for any ill-willed charms or illegal content. Usually they were from family or friends, but in the case of Gilderoy Lockhart, they were mostly from still-adoring fans.

“Oh, is it my birthday?” The dazzling blond wizard was looking a bit lost, as he did most of the time these days.

“No, Gilderoy, it's Christmas. Your birthday is not for another month.”

“Oh, right, Christmas! And what presents did I get?”

“Well, best find out yourself, I don't wanna ruin the surprise.” The healer put down several small parcels as well as dozens of envelopes, some of which were adorned with glittering kiss marks or pink hearts.

Gilderoy Lockhart opened up the letters first, reading again and again about all the daring deeds he'd done but never feeling any sense of recognition. He put the letters that asked for an autograph on one pile to be answered later and continued with the parcels. When he opened the first one, a dashingly handsome face he'd learned to recognize as his own looked up to him from his lap. He'd been given one of his own books with a heartfelt letter by a witch claiming his work had changed her life and a polite request for him to autograph it.

In the time since his admission he'd read all of his own books (at the suggestion of his healers) in the hope of sparking memories, but he never felt any sense of familiarity with the works. It was as if the adventures he read about had all happened to a complete stranger.

After another book asking to be autographed as well as a new, very elegant tropical bird quill he came to the last package, attached to which was a small note.

'Dear Mr. Lockhart, due to a Doxy infestation, your former office at Hogwarts underwent a thorough cleaning. In the course of this, the enclosed book has been discovered, which is believed to belong to you. We wish you a pleasant holiday season and all the best in your healing process, sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'  
He opened the package, revealing a grubby looking diary, filled from cover to cover with tight, elegant handwriting.

When he started to read, a sense of vertigo hit him, the first real feeling of recognition since his accident. In his own handwriting he read notes on all his adventures, but for the first time, he wasn't the hero in them.

Even though the diary revealed to Gilderoy Lockhart what crimes he'd committed, he couldn't have been happier to receive it. For the first time in years, he had a sense of self once again.


	19. The Poor Owls

There was a faint knocking on the kitchen window of Ron and Hermione's cottage.

Ron was standing by the stove, overlooking several pots and pans in preparation of dinner.

“Hermione, could you get that?”

His wife came through from the living room and opened the window to let an exhausted looking barn owl in.

“Oh gosh, look at this one! Come now, let's get you some water and rest.”

She freed the messenger from his parcels – from a glance Ron spotted at least five – and conjured up a pillow to lay the worn bird down.

Behind her, the pitter patter of small feet announced her daughter.

“What do you have there, mum? I wanna see!”, Rose asked, peeking above the edge of the kitchen table.

“Look, grandma has sent some Christmas presents.”

Hermione's daughter gave the owl laying on a bed of cushions a sceptical look.

“Is the owl sick, momma?”, the little girl asked.

“No, I think he's just overworked. Too many things to deliver.”

“Like the others! Will he be okay?”

“Yes, he just needs some rest and a bit of water and he'll be right as rain again.”

“Oh, and some owl treats! I'll get them!” Rose was off in a whirlwind, fetching some treats for the exhausted owl. She returned quickly, prodding the bird to take a few nibbles of the offered snack.

Ron turned away from his dinner preparations to take a look at the patient and his nurse.

“Maybe we should open an owl infirmary.” He looked to the windowsill where another three owls were napping on their perches, glad to take a break from delivering Christmas presents. “Or have a word with our friends and family about how many presents they're sending.”

“There already is a guideline, Ron, it's just that no one enforces it and there aren't any set fines. Maybe I should address that at the next meeting with the head of magical law enforcement,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“Until then, we'll just have to take care of them. I'm sure Rose doesn't mind,” Ron commented as they both looked at their daughter doting on the fatigued owl. “You know, we could pay Hagrid a visit one day with her. I'm sure those two will have a blast!”

“As long as there are no blast-ended skrewts. Or dragons. Or Hippogriffs.” Hermione gave Ron a wary look, who blanched at the memories his wife had conjured up.

“On second thought, let's wait on that until she is in school. Maybe owls are enough for now.”


	20. In Diagon Alley

Diagon Alley was bustling with activity despite the overcast sky and the constant falling of precipitation that didn't quite know if it was supposed to be snow or rain.

Charlie Weasley cussed under his breath, slogging through the brown mush that was accumulating in the middle of the road on his way along the crowded street.

He'd been home for less than an hour for Christmas, for once leaving his colleagues to fend for themselves during breeding season to spend time with his family, when his mother had sent him out again, making him fetch some potions to deal with a chizpurfle infestation. Admittedly, Molly Weasley was busy enough with Christmas preparations herself and she had apologized for sending him out, and all his siblings had been given chores already, but it still irked him somewhat. Especially in this dreary weather.

He hurried into Slug & Jiggers Apothecary and waited patiently behind a witch discussing the assets and drawbacks of using dragonfly thoraxes versus whole dragonflies when making girding potion with the shopkeeper. While he stood there, he watched the hustle and bustle outside through the shop window.

A group of young witches entered Rosa Lee Teabag across the street, talking and laughing among themselves unabashedly as if they hadn't seen each other in months. They were passed by a young family with three children, their father and mother clearly exhausted but smiling nonetheless, steering them away from Sugarplum's Sweets Shop. He spotted an elder man with a mountain of packages, only avoiding colliding with the other pedestrians because they were sidestepping him. Suddenly the weather didn't look so sullen anymore.

The witch in front of him paid and left and Charlie quickly did the same.

He made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, where he used the fireplace to return to the Burrow. He stepped out into a differently busy environment, the air smelling of meat pie and mulled wine, his younger siblings rushing by and teasing one another and his mother yelling for somebody to stop what they were doing this instant.

Once he'd taken care of the chizpurfles and settled in his favourite chair in the living room with a mug of hot chocolate, he felt a calm settle over him despite the still-going commotion around him. Nothing like Christmas at the Burrow.


	21. Old Molly and Arthur

Molly Weasley settled in a cosy chair by the fire and closed her eyes for a moment. She could hear the sound of small feet running around the kitchen, cheerful laughter and surprised yelps drifting in from outside and the crackle of the nearby fire. The smell of roast beef filled the air with a warm sense of belonging and she could hear Ginny, Hermione and Fleur talking as they prepared Christmas dinner. Angelina and Audrey were out in the backyard with most of the children giving as good as they got in their ongoing snowball fight. The rest of her children were decorating the outside of the house.

She heard the heavy footsteps of her husband and opened her eyes to look up into his smiling face. He bent down to kiss her and straightened up with a small groan, rubbing his lower back.

“How is it that I'm getting old and you're just getting more beautiful?”, he complained, settling in a chair next to his wife.

“Don't you dare say you're getting old. That would mean I would be getting old as well!”, Molly admonished him.

She took his hand and rubbed the back of it gently, quietly counting all the age spots that hadn't been there when they'd gotten married.

“Grandma! Look! We've found a gnome in the garden!”, Hugo exclaimed, holding the struggling creature by its legs.

“Oh, we haven't had a gnome in the gardens for a couple years now! How curious! Take care that it doesn't bite you and when you're done, put it back where you found it.” She leaned towards her youngest grandson and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You know, we used to throw them out of the garden so they wouldn't get into the vegetable patch, but your aunt Audrey invented a charm to ward them off so we don't have to do that any more.”

Hugo looked at his treasure with a sceptical look. “I think they look kinda funny.”

Arthur Weasley chuckled at that and his wife looked at him fondly. There had been times when the couple would fight about Arthur being too lenient with the garden pests because he'd thought they looked funny, but those arguments lay long behind them.

Their grandson ran off again and the pair stayed seated by the fire, enjoying the hustle and bustle of their family around them.


	22. Argus Filch

Argus Filch watched the carriages disappear into the falling snow with a satisfied grin. Even though not all students left Hogwarts over the winter break, it still meant way less muck and filth being brought into the castle and thus far less work for him.

A lively fire was burning in his fireplace later that evening, Mrs. Norris sprawled out in front of it on a small pile of cushions, utterly content in a way only a cat can be.

Filch was bent over his office table, working on the restauration of a small painting that had suffered damage from a misfired hex. It had pictured a few witches in old-fashioned robes having a picnic on a Summer day, though the inhabitants had fled the scene while he worked on their canvas.

He carefully scrubbed at the scorch marks in one corner, humming to himself. Peeves had been uncharacteristically quiet that day, the house elves had served his favourite pudding that evening and the mending was coming along nicely. For once he didn't feel like he had anything to complain about.


	23. Christmas for Gnomes

The kitchen door of the Burrow opened quietly and Arthur Weasley stepped out, casting a furtive glance over his shoulder. Laughter, Christmas carols and warm light were spilling out of the open door, which he closed quickly behind him.

The tall figure made his way slowly and awkwardly towards the hedge that bordered the property, his silhouette seeming more bulky than usual.

He crouched down and there were several small thumps as he put down what he'd been carrying.

“Merry Christmas, little gnomes!”, he whispered and arranged the leftovers he'd snuck out along the edge of the garden. “And don't tell my wife!”

He made his way back towards the house, listening intently towards the darker areas of the garden. There were a few cheers and the sound of a butterbeer bottle being opened. Arthur smiled to himself and returned to the festivities going on inside. Molly looked at him warmly, pretending she didn't know what her husband was doing. She did, however, fetch the emptied dishes from underneath the hedge the next morning.


	24. Surprise Present

Christmas morning brought a sallow winter sun peeking through the windows, illuminating a couple laying in bed. Harry stretched and groaned, slowly flitting his eyelashes open. Ginny stirred beside him, burrowing into his side.

“Merry Christmas,” she mumbled with still-closed eyes.

Her husband kissed her forehead. “Merry Christmas.”

Harry looked down towards the end of the bed, where two small piles of presents lay.

“Who put the presents there?”, he asked.

“'s magic,” came the muttered reply.

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't press the matter for now.

He started opening presents, but soon stopped as Ginny made no move to join him.

“Aren't you going to open yours?”

She stretched and yawned, finally opening her eyes.

“You're like a little kid. No patience at all.” Despite her protests, she sat up and started opening presents as well.

Once they'd donned their traditional Weasley sweaters and all their Christmas gifts had been opened, Harry looked around in confusion.

“What are you doing? Are you looking for something?”, Ginny asked innocently. She raised her eyebrows at Harry while chewing on a chocolate frog.

“Did I miss your present? Or did I really annoy you enough with the thing about the books last week?”

Ginny laughed at how concerned Harry looked, his hair standing up in all directions, his scarlet jumper riding up a bit over one hip.

She leaned over to kiss him.

“No, of course not. I have it right here.” She pointed to her lap, which only deepened the confused look on Harry's face. “It's wrapped pretty tightly now, so you'll have to wait a few months until you get to see it. But I think it'll be worth the wait.” She gently laid both hands on her stomach and smiled radiantly. It took Harry a moment to catch on.

“You mean you're- are you really pregnant?”, he asked incredulously. When she nodded, she found herself in a tight embrace. “My gosh, that's brilliant!” Harry disentangled himself and took Ginny's face into his hands. “That is marvelous! I love you, you know?”

“I know. It's quite mutual.” Ginny couldn't help grinning as she saw her own expression mirrored in Harry's face.

The other presents lay forgotten for now, a single chocolate frog that had escaped its packaging slowly making its way across wrapping paper and the scrunched up duvet at the foot of the bed.

“So did you really not get me anything else, then?”, Harry asked a few minutes later, which earned him a smack.

“Greedy bastard. But yes, your new broom is downstairs, it was just too big for the bed.”


End file.
